


Appetite

by naboru



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Cybertronian Vampirism, Fluff, M/M, Minor Character Death, Smut, Transformers Plug and Play Sexual Interfacing, succubi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 15:31:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9826565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naboru/pseuds/naboru
Summary: Vortex works for Onslaught in Kaon where he meets Blast Off. But Vortex is not an ordinary mech. He’s something he doesn’t want people to know. Least of all Blast Off, because he decides he likes the shuttle.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Continuity:** G1 Succubus AU, Koan, pre-war  
>  **Rating:** R  
>  **Disclaimer:** Sadly, nothing is mine.  
>  **Beta:** ultharkitty

When the door opened, Onslaught didn’t bother looking up. There was only one person who dared enter his office without knocking or pinging him first.

“Good morning, Vortex,” he greeted with a nod.

“Morning Ons,” the ‘copter said as he sat down on the chair in front of the desk. He didn’t say anything else. That was good, he remembered that he had to wait until Onslaught was done reading.

Onslaught finished the report, and raised his head to meet Vortex’ stare. To his surprise the grey frame in front of him was not covered in energon.

“I presume you have news for me?” he said.

Vortex nodded, and handed him a datapad. “I sure have.” His grin spoke for itself. “He gave up sooner than I thought. It was boring, but you have your information.”

Turning the datapad on, he found Vortex’ writing on it. For once he had tried to make his glyphs readable. It looked like the subject had told them everything Onslaught had wanted to know. He refused to call his former employee anything but a subject; the mech had defected and sold business secrets to a mob boss in Polyhex.

Vortex had even managed to make him reveal the location of the stolen money and weapons.

“And?” Vortex asked, interrupting Onslaught’s train of thought.

He resisted a sigh. The ‘copter always expected praise, the edge in his grin just made it obvious. “Good work,” Onslaught admitted. Rotor blades twitched.

“Heh, course it is. I always deliver,” Vortex said. “I don’t think he knew anything more, but if you want me to, I can hack him?”

Onslaught shook his head. “I doubt he did. He didn’t know much before he defected.”

Vortex’ rotors wilted slightly, and now Onslaught let himself utter that sigh. “I don’t need him any more,” he said. “When was the last time you properly ate?”

On his chair, Vortex perked up. “About three weeks ago.”

“So, I suppose you’re hungry, then.”

Vortex bit his lip. “I wouldn’t mind real food…”

“Then you may go ahead.” Onslaught nodded. “Do your thing.”

Bobbing rotors showed Vortex’ excitement, but he had the decency not to flare his field or lick his lips. “Do you want him mutilated or something?”

Onslaught shook his head. “I don’t care. Just keep him recognisable. I have plans for the body.”

Vortex gave a quick nod and stood up. Onslaught took a closer look at the information on the datapad.

“Enjoy your meal,” he said as Vortex left.

* * *

Vortex entered the dark, bleak room and turned on the light.

Freefall winced on his chair, his optics shutting down.

“Oh, sorry. Too bright,” Vortex said, and dimmed the lamps. They tinted the grey walls blue, a more welcoming shade. Less threatening.

Vortex’ feet were soft on the floor as he approached the flyer. The mech’s hands were tied beneath him just under the wings, his ankles bound to the legs of the chair.

“You can open your optics,” Vortex said, his voice polite, almost apologetic.

Freefall did, and glared at him. It was only show, Vortex knew. His energy field was rich with terror. Sometimes these emotions tasted sweet or sour and were pleasurable, but with Freefall, it had only a bitter stale flavour.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Vortex put an energon cube on the table, and moved up to the weathered chair. The flyer winced again, and tryied to edge away as Vortex reached out. “I’m not gonna hurt you,” he said, but Freefall’s optics only narrowed more.

“I know you,” he spat.

Vortex laughed. He heard that so often, and his answer was always the same: “No, you know _stories_ about me. So now hold still, I want to untie you.”

Freefall frowned, but didn’t flinch away any more.

Vortex reached behind him to get to the cuffs, his arms between the two sets of trembling wings that looked so touchable. Their chests almost touched, and Vortex’ field met Freefall’s, radiating reassurance, calm, and apology.

The cuffs clicked, and they clattered to the ground. Vortex didn’t back away, but dropped to his knees and took care of the other bonds.

“Why are you doing that?” Freefall asked, rubbing his wrist.

“Because Onslaught said so.” Vortex shrugged, his rotor blades quivered. “You’re free to go.”

Yellow optics flickered in confusion, and Vortex’ own in amusement. “I can go? But…”

“But ‘I betrayed Onslaught and gave his enemy an advantage and stole from him’?” Vortex completed, rising once the second ankle was free. He kept close, looking down at the mech with a fake smile. “You did that. But you were cooperative too. You didn’t resist, you gave us the upper hand now, so you’ve redeemed yourself.” Vortex shrugged again, letting his rotors bob. To his satisfaction, Freefall was looking at them.

“I don’t trust you,” Freefall said, the fear in his field increasing.

Vortex sighed. He stepped over to the table to get the energon. “I guessed that. And it’s true, you’re not completely free to leave.” Vortex handed Freefall the energon but the flyer didn’t take it, eying it suspiciously. “You’re not completely free.”

Freefall glared again, but didn’t say anything.

“Fine,” Vortex rolled his optics and took a large sip from the cube. “See, it’s not poisoned. And by ‘not completely free to leave’, I mean you have to put up with me for a while yet.”

Freefall tensed. “Why?”

The fear was so thick and bitter, Vortex wanted to gag. He bit back the disgust and forced another apologetic smile. “Because if you go out alone now, Hardshell’s people will be waiting for you, and you won’t be alive much longer.”

“You’ll, like, protect me?” Confusion as tingly as energon crisps made the bitter fear bearable, and Vortex decided he wanted more of that. He nodded.

“Onslaught won’t offer you another position in his organisation. He also doesn’t want to see you in Kaon again after tomorrow, but until you leave the city, you have my protection.” Vortex nudged the energon cube closer to Freefall, who reluctantly took it. “Onslaught’s not as cruel as everyone thinks, and neither am I.”

“But the stories-“

“Are _stories_ ,” Vortex insisted.

They stared at each other for a moment. “And despite all those stories, I never laid a hand on you, did I?” Vortex asked.

Freefall shook his head.

“And I never threatened you.”

“Yeah…” the flyer muttered, his eyes evading Vortex’ visor. They stared at the ground next to him for a few astroseconds before shifting to look at the energon. Slowly, carefully, Freefall took his first sip, and Vortex knew it would only get easier from here.

* * *

Once Freefall had drunk up, they’d headed out.

Vortex led him to a bar, to help him relax. They met with friends and strangers alike, talking and joking, but Vortex could see Freefall was still wary. He didn’t get overcharged, and the ‘copter was thankful for it.

Many people saw them, just like Vortex wanted. Sometimes he turned around, glaring at a dark corner for longer than a short assessment of the situation. He flicked out his laser scalpel, making sure it was ready to use if he should need it. Freefall saw it all, but didn’t comment. Not on that, nor on Vortex’ rotor blades flicking when there was a noise. He was tense, as though Hardshell’s people could turn up at any moment.

It worked.

Freefalls’s behaviour towards Vortex changed throughout the course of the day. The distance he kept decreased, their energy fields touched more often than not as the flyer sought his reassurance.

Freefall only flinched at the first touch, a brush against his thigh as they sat next to each other. The next touch was met with less distrust, and the next, and eventually with a happy anticipation that was obvious in Freefall’s energy signature.

It was a sweet tang; Vortex’ hunger became almost unbearable.

It was late at night when they stumbled into the hotel room, a tangled mess of arms and legs, reaching out to touch as much as possible.

It was one of Onslaught’s hotels, so Vortex wouldn’t need to worry, so he could focus on these soft eager lips nibbling on his throat cables, and those hands on his plating.

“Frag yes,” he hissed as fingers traced over his rotors, a painfully gentle touch. Even more arousal bled into Vortex’ signature, so strong and consuming, it caused Freefall to moan. The flyer answered with his field flare, hot and needy and tainted by Vortex’ enchanting hunger.

Vortex’ legs met the berth, and they let themselves drop down, hands ran over hot plating, cooling systems roaring to life even before they connected. And then they clicked their plugs in.

Charge surged back and forth when the interface fully settled, and Vortex shuddered. This was so good - this flavour of lust and need. The pleasure made his sensors sing, his plating shudder and rotors tremble.

Above Vortex, Freefall moaned, clutching at his plating or the soft covering of the berth. There was relief that Vortex tasted with his whole frame. 

They didn’t bother altering information in the charge to stimulate specific sensors. It was intense enough as it was, with tingling plating and the vibrations of two engines shaking them to the laser core.

Vortex let himself go. He didn’t need to hold back now, his stream throbbing with the alluring impulse to make his partner’s firewalls drop.

It took only a few circles of charge, a stifled moan and the grip on Vortex’ rotors tightening, until the resisting code resolved and gave Vortex access. 

Vortex began to feed.

The charge reversed. Not flowing in circles any more as a feedback loop, it streamed into Vortex and he gasped. It was by instinct that he used his access to make Freefall’s limbs heavy and weak. He added phantom sensations and caused the charge to grow and pulse, to dampen the feeling of life running out.

Freefall moaned, but his sounds were quieter now. His dizziness was palpable even for Vortex, but so was the promise of sweet oblivion.

Vortex engine growled, his own processor caught between his predatory sense and the height of pleasure. He reached deeper, and took more and more of Freefall’s essence.

Only when Freefall’s laser core began to flicker, confusion sparked in the flyer’s field and stream - the tingling that Vortex had liked so much earlier that day. He bathed in it, enjoying it, forcing himself to slow his feast to dwell on this taste a little longer.

It lasted only a few astroseconds more, then Freefall overloaded. The rush of charge and life made up for the loss of the flavour, and Vortex took it all and more. He groaned, his optics flickered as he tensed only moments before his own climax hit. Writhing under the heat, his rotors were caught in the soft covering and penetrated it as his back lifted off the berth. The stream of his uttered sounds of pleasure slowly waned, and Vortex optics rebooted. In a final act, he took the last remaining life from Freefall’s pale frame, and watched him turn grey.

With a deep vent, Vortex let his head drop to the berth, hands sliding down from the warm body above him. He stared at the ceiling while everything settled, and satiation and satisfaction set in.

His hands slide down from the still warm frame above him before it started to cool. His red visor onlined, dimly stared at the ceiling.

“Hmmmm,” Vortex hummed to himself, trying to stay awake. He could have fallen asleep right then and there, but he should leave and call Onslaught. He didn’t want to wake up to a corpse, not again.

Venting deeply, Vortex gave Freefall’s dead frame a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you,” he mumbled and meant it, before he wiggled himself free from beneath him and dialled Onslaught’s frequency.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuity: G1 Succubus AU, Koan, pre-war  
> Rating: R  
> Disclaimer: Sadly, nothing is mine.  
> Beta: ultharkitty

Onslaught looked up from the names on the datapad and met the Blast Off’s stare.

The other’s face was blank, his optics on a normal setting. He stood in front of the desk, having refused to sit down. His stance was relaxed but observant.

The shuttle had probably met more intimidating people, and had lived through enough dangerous situations. A mob boss from Kaon was not high up on the list of things to be wary about, not any more. To say Onslaught wasn’t disappointed about this would be a lie.

Still, the shuttle knew that with a single word, everyone in HQ would turn on him. Not that Onslaught would give such an order, but the shuttle’s cannons on his lower legs were as large as Onslaught’s, and showed the shuttle was prepared for trouble.

“Thank you, Blast Off, for the list,” Onslaught said, and put the datapad down.

“You paid me for it,” Blast Off answered with a shrug.

Onslaught huffed amused. “I did. And did you think about my offer?”

Blast Off tipped his head to a side. “Yes,” he paused as ailerons clicked softly. “I need to settle on Cybertron anyway,” he said, and Onslaught could understand his problem. If a Cybertronian citizen was in space or off-planet on colonies for too long, their citizenship was revoked. “I guess it doesn’t matter if I’m in Kaon or elsewhere.”

This wasn’t a clear answer, but Onslaught hadn’t expected Blast Off to agree to work for him full time right away. This at least meant the shuttle would be easier to contact for future jobs.

“I’m happy to hear this,” Onslaught replied, giving a brief nod. “I’d like to discuss a new project with you in a few days. I need to hear back from an informant first, however.”

Blast Off nodded. “Sure. I’ll be-“

The door that opened with a sliding noise. The shuttle turned.

“Hey Ons, I- oh,” Vortex stopped mid-sentence, his visor glowing as he stared at Blast Off. “Uh, hey!” The ‘copter grinned, leaning on the door frame, but all Blast Off did was look back at Onslaught.

“I will await your call,” he said, his face as blank as ever, and he headed for the door.

Vortex didn’t move immediately as Blast Off came closer, and Onslaught was prepared to tell the ‘copter off, but he didn’t need to. Still, Vortex’ steps into the room were measured, and forced Blast Off to slow his pace.

Onslaught was certain their energy fields touched when they walked past each other.

The door slid shut again, and Vortex sat down on the chair Blast Off had refused.

“No,” Onslaught told Vortex with a glare.

Vortex’ optics flickered – the commander knew it was only show. “What? I didn’t say anything.”

“I know what you’re thinking,” Onslaught growled, “and no. He’s not going to be your dinner.”

“I wouldn’t-“

“You most certainly _would!_ I know you,” Onslaught insisted. “And he’s off-limits. I need someone like him in my organisation, do you hear me?”

Vortex actually looked taken-aback as he nodded. Onslaught almost felt sorry for having assumed the worst of him, but he knew Vortex and his hunger sometimes. It was better to set the boundaries now.

“I can behave, you now,” he muttered. Onslaught wasn’t certain his hurt was real. “And _you_ know I can enjoy people without killing them…”

Onslaught kept his glare in place. Just because Onslaught gave in now and then and interfaced with the ‘copter, it didn’t mean he wasn’t careful. He knew full well what Vortex was, and he only gave in when he knew Vortex had recently eaten.

And speaking of having eaten. “Can you guess why I ordered you here?” Onslaught asked, changing the topic.

“I take it this is about Freefall?”

“That, too-“

“There’s more?” Vortex asked, sounding anything but pleased. “But I didn’t get in trouble recently, and-“

“Vortex,” Onslaught interrupted the ‘copter, giving him a stern look, the kind that told him to shut up and listen. “This is not about you getting in trouble, but about you creating trouble for _me_.” Onslaught sat back in his chair, keeping his expression business-like. He fully expected Vortex to change the topic and he prepared himself for it. But Vortex let Onslaught continue without interrupting. “You need to stop bringing your pray to my hotels. Or let me be more precise: to this kind of hotel.” He crossed his arms. “You know very well they receive a certain calibre of guest, and I can’t afford to have my staff carry out a corpse through the goods elevator every few weeks.”

Vortex slumped. “But the beds are comfy.”

Onslaught shook his head in annoyance. “I own other hotels as well. They are located in areas of Kaon where taking out a dead body isn’t difficult to hide.”

“But if I take them there, they’ll know something is up.”

“It’s a no-tell hotel, what are they’re going think?” Onslaught frowned, hating Vortex being unreasonable. “That you’ll interface and then leave? What’s wrong with that? Seeing that this is the case anyway, unless you want to snuggle up to a corpse,” he snapped.

Vortex winced, his rotors dropped slightly, and Onslaught wondered which nerve he’d hit. It wasn’t often Vortex showed an honest reaction like that, even if it was only for an astrosecond. The copter twitched as he regained his composure

“Besides,” Onslaught continued,” it’s not as though you can’t _convince_ them if they change their mind.” The ‘copter didn’t have to be friendly to make people trust him, as scary as it was. During all the time Onslaught had known Vortex, he had only witnessed the rotary enthralling people to feed a few times. He could count the moments on one hand. He had never dared ask why Vortex went the long route instead, because Onslaught knew how unresponsive he would be about certain things regarding himself.

“Next time, you will choose the hotel more wisely,” Onslaught ordered, “or I will charge you for the room, and the clean-up. Do you understand?”

Vortex gave a brief nod, and muttered, “Yes, sir.” He obviously didn’t like it, but contrary to Onslaught’s expectations, he didn’t argue any more or try to seduce him. There wasn’t even a nudge of his field. It was unusual, but also welcome, because Onslaught didn’t have time for the ‘copter’s games.

“Dismissed,” Onslaught said.

With another curt nod, Vortex got up and slouched off wordlessly.

Onslaught resisted a huff of irritation.

Dealing with Vortex could be so exhausting.

* * *

Walking along the corridor to the elevator, Vortex grumbled to himself.

Onslaught was such a spoilsport. Vortex liked it comfy, and it wasn’t that he used the posher hotels _that_ often.

Pressing the button for the elevator, Vortex slumped against the wall.

He did understand what Onslaught meant, what the problem was, and he knew, despite his frustration, he wouldn’t cause his boss any more trouble. Vortex remembered all too well when he’d first arrived in Kaon. He’d come here because it had a certain reputation. People didn’t care about people. The crime rate was high, and if someone disappeared, no one investigated too closely.

But the reputation was one thing, Kaon’s police and media another.

It hadn’t taken long until they’d picked up the trail of bodies with extinguished laser cores and no external wounds.

It had been vorns ago, but Vortex still remembered the headlines of the “Laser Core Killer”. They had forced him into hiding, into almost starving, until he slowly became better at getting rid of the corpses, and at mutilating corpses as though they’d died in a failed robbery or some other mundane everyday Kaon event.

The headlines were long gone, the panic long subsided when eventually he was found. But it hadn’t been the police that found Vortex, it had been Onslaught.

Vortex had fed on one of Onslaught’s people without knowing.

A shudder run down his back as he remembered it all. Onslaught could have killed him then and there, but he gave him a chance. And once Vortex had told him what he was, and why he killed, the former military commander had seemed intrigued.

Vortex stared at his hand as if it had the answer to all the whys in Vortex head. Why had Onslaught given him this chance? Why did every bit of criticism from Onslaught make him feel like an utter failure? Why couldn’t he just be like everyone else? Why couldn’t he feed on energon like a normal person?

Sure, his way of life had some perks, but they didn’t make up for the miserable feeling when Onslaught told him off. Or the way he felt when he accidentally killed someone he liked during interface. Although thankfully that hadn’t happened since before he’d arrived in Kaon…

“Frag everything,” Vortex grumbled and kicked the wall next to the elevator.

“Hey there,” a voice behind Vortex made him flinch. He turned around and saw Pointer grinning at him. “No destroying the interior decor,” she said, coming closer.

She was a blue minibot, only half the size of Vortex, with a crest of five horns on her helm. Vortex liked her.

“Sorry,” he sighed and rubbed his face.

“Don’t be. Rough day?”

“Kind of.”

“Then I’m sorry to make it even rougher,” Pointer said with a lopsided grin, “because the elevator is broken.”

“What? Again?” It had only been repaired the other day. “They could have put a sign on it.”

“I know, it’s so annoying,” Pointer sighed. “Let’s take the stairs?”

Vortex nodded, and only then realised the minibot had a batch of datapads under her arms. “You want me to help you with these?” Vortex asked, but Pointer shook her head.

“It’s fine, thanks.” They went to the emergency exit door which led onto the stairs. “Any reason why your mood is so low?” Pointer smiled up at him.

“Nah, not really.” Vortex couldn’t tell her, since no one except Onslaught new what he was, and he would like to keep it that way. But there should be a few things he could tell the minibot. “I did something Ons wasn’t happy about and he pulled his military thing on me.”

“Ouch. That can be worse than when he’s yelling.”

“Yeah,” Vortex sighed. “It goes right to your guts.”

“And you feel like you’re the biggest disappointment,” Pointer said, and vented air deeply.

“It’s always good to hear I’m not the only one who feels that way.” Vortex grinned weakly.

“Isn’t it? You should see Brawl when Onslaught goes all commander on him…”

Vortex allowed himself a soft snicker. The tank pulled a such face when Onslaught hadn’t been happy with him. Though, Vortex’ situation was a little different.

“You seen the new shuttleformer around?” Vortex asked. It was partly to change the topic, and partly because Pointer was in accounting; she might have authorised a payment to him.

“You mean that massive guy?” Pointer’s yellow optics grew big. “Well, he’s massive from my perspective anyway.”

Vortex laughed. “That one.” There weren’t many shuttles around.

“I’ve seen him, but I don’t have a name if that was your next question.”

Vortex bit his lip. Pointer knew him too well.

“You know Onslaught doesn’t use names most of the times. Not for contractors.”

“Yeah, I know. I just thought maybe he’d introduced himself to you,” Vortex replied, pondering on going back to Onslaught and asking him. It would make finding the shuttle in Kaon easier.

“I don’t think the guy talks much at all.” Pointer shrugged. “But he did ask me where he could get some shuttle-grade coolant”

“Oh,” Vortex perked up. “What did you tell him?”

“The truth. That he won’t get that in Kaon easily. I sent him to Shunt’s store, because he can obtain these kind of things the quickest.”

Vortex couldn’t hide his grin. “You sent a guy that doesn’t seem to like talking to Shunt of all people?”

“I guess that means, if you hurry, you might still catch him there,” Pointer smirked up at him, optics blinking in a wink that she knew full well why Vortex had asked in the first place. And while it _was_ for the reason Pointer guessed, it was also because Vortex wanted to know what services Onslaught got from the shuttle.

“I should do that, then,” Vortex grinned, and patted Pointer on the helm. “See you later,” he said as he ignored her annoyed huff and sprinted down the stairs.

* * *

Vortex reached Shunt’s store just in time to see the shuttle leave. He wore his battle mask now, his face hidden. He looked military with it

Vortex slowed down, and stopped completely when the shuttle did as well. There was a reflection in a nearby shop window, and Vortex pretended to inspect the goods, watching the distorted image of the mech who stood head and shoulders above everyone else in the street.

When the shuttleformer started moving again, Vortex waited a few astroseconds, then headed after him.

The shuttle seemed to check for the way via public network a few times, looking around, before he decided on a certain direction.

It was tiring, and Vortex sighed when all what the other did was run errands.

He went to a spare parts supply, but the shuttle came out empty-handed. That was no surprise. Shuttleformers weren’t very common in Kaon. Vortex could only think of four that he’d met so far, and of these only two were residents.

The next stop was an energon store. Vortex stayed outside, looking at the paint on offer in the store next door. He had pondered on getting a new paintjob, something more colourful than his grey and teal, but he still wasn’t sold on the idea yet. The shop here offered free consulting on colour schemes, maybe he should come back someday.

Vortex put a marker on his personal map when the shuttle came out of the other shop. He had a bag in his hand now, and was looking at a polythene sheet – a very old-fashioned way to print a receipt. It was odd that in Kaon some shops still did that.

The shuttle shrugged, crumpled it up, and let it drop.

Vortex followed where it fell, and took it from the ground when he’d reached it after a few steps.

The receipt listed rust sticks, standard energon, oil cake (trial size), and energon gel cubes (serial no. 558-21, extra TcO2 and Cu, spicy). Vortex frowned, but kept it and put it in the compartment on his thigh.

“Slaggit,” he hissed. The shuttle was gone. Vortex glanced around, angry at himself for losing a mech that size. Pushing through a crowd of Praxians, Vortex walked at a brisk pace into the direction where the other had headed. He found him again standing at a traffic light, the battle mask withdrawn now as he nibbled on a rust stick.

When the lights turned green, the shuttle walked off, and Vortex waited until they almost changed back to red again. He didn’t want to get too close, they had seen each other in Onslaught’s office.

It hadn’t looked like the shuttle had paid much attention to him as he’d walked past, but Vortex couldn’t be too careful. He had meant for their energy fields to touch that moment, but the other’s field had been drawn in tight.

The shuttleformer turned right into an alley. It must have been a shortcut, and so Vortex waited another few astroseconds before following inside – and ran straight into a muzzle.

“Hello there.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Rating:** R  
>  **Disclaimer:** Sadly, nothing is mine.  
>  **Beta:** ultharkitty

Vortex froze for an astrosecond. It was too long.

The shuttle grabbed his arm and closed one of the big hands around his throat, forcing him against the wall of the building. His rotor blades trembled in surprise.

Vortex’ hand came up, clutching at the shuttle’s lower arm. It held him there so easily. The shuttle knew his strength, but he didn’t know Vortex’. It was one of the perks that came with his unusual method of sustenance, though he thought that even his strength wouldn’t be enough to overpower the shuttleformer. Especially not when the mech still had a gun, and Vortex had left his weapons at base. He did have a set of laser scalpels, but pinned like that, he didn’t trust himself to be fast enough to reach them.

Besides, he didn’t want to hurt the shuttle.

And the shuttle didn’t want to hurt him either, according to his relaxed posture and the loose grip on his gun. With his hand tight around Vortex’ throat, his reached for the energon stick at his mouth.

“So,” he said, with a hint of an accent that Vortex couldn’t place, “you’re Onslaught’s babysitter? Or his watchdog, making sure I don’t piss in anyone else’s pool?”

Vortex would have tilted his head at the unusual organic expression, but as it was, he could only raise his optical ridges. His processor needed an astrosecond to catch the meaning of the idioms. “Would you believe me I’m neither?”

“That depends on who you say you _are_ ,” the shuttle replied, and bit off a good portion of the rust stick. There was amusement in his energy field, and Vortex’ jaw clenched.

It tasted new, and exciting. It was only a flicker where the hand met Vortex’ plating, but Vortex already knew he wanted more. It was giving him a craving he couldn’t explain, that had nothing to do with being hungry.

“Well, first of all, I’m Vortex,” he answered with a grin. “And I’m just nosy.”

That seemed to bewilder the shuttle, because the grip loosened slightly.

“I saw you in Onslaught’s office,” he said.

“I do work for him,” Vortex replied. “But right now I’m here in my free time.”

“And in your free time you follow people around who you don’t know? Or how am I supposed to take it?”

“If I haven’t seen them before and they look interesting, why not?” Vortex grinned. The clutching on the other’s lower arm became less tight and two of his fingers started stoking the plating lightly. “We don’t get many shuttles in Kaon, and even less who work in our _business_. How can anyone blame me for being curious?”

The shuttle huffed. And despite his arm being stretched out, a waft of warm air from his vents still touched Vortex’ plating. “You have a weird way of showing curiosity, you know that?”

“I, well, yeah. I guess.” Vortex shrugged. “Okay, so I followed you when I just should have introduced myself and offer to buy you a drink-“

“You should have,” the shuttle muttered, but Vortex just continued. 

“But I still can offer to buy you a drink now, right?” His grin became a mix of a smile and a smirk and he let his energy field flare with hopeful anticipation.

The shuttle didn’t say anything for long moment, and Vortex was almost sure he’d decline. He thought about flaring his field in a way no one could resist, but that wouldn’t be what Vortex wanted. He didn’t even know the other’s name yet.

“I can buy you two or three drinks, if you want?” Vortex said. He didn’t like how uncertain his voice was, but he really didn’t want to frag this up – even if only because Onslaught would have had his aft for it once he found out.

With a deep vent of air, the hand on Vortex’ throat was finally removed, and the shuttle put the last bit of the rust stick into his mouth, chewing without saying anything.

Vortex’ rubbed his neck. “So, that’s a yes?”

“Why not?” The shuttle’s shoulder twitched in a one-sided shrug. “Can’t say no to free drinks, can I? You better not show me the shabbiest bar there is.”

“I won’t,” Vortex promised, his grin back on his lips. “So, what’s your name? I want to know who I’m buying drinks for.”

An amused huff left the shuttle’s vents as he shook his head briefly. “Blast Off,” he said, putting the gun away. “My name is Blast Off.”

* * *

Vortex was glad that he hadn’t messed things up with Blast Off. Within the first half hour he learnt that the shuttle switched between a posh Altihexian accent and the unidentifiable one he’d heard earlier. He also did this thing where he spoke very formal and high class, only to say something that Vortex usually heard from someone like Brawl.

Though, the most intriguing part was Blast Off’s energy field. Vortex wanted to lean in close, and stay there. He wanted to bath in it, take it in like someone might enjoy a good hot cube of energon.

“So,” Vortex said, sipping form his drink slowly. It was still his first drink. He didn’t want to get fendered, unlike the shuttle, who’d just finished his second cube. “What did you do for Ons?” He smiled. “If you don’t tell me now, I’ll find it out soon anyway.”

“You’re into intelligence, then?” Blast Off raised an optical ridge.

“If you want to use the military terms, yes. Intelligence, special-ops, that kind of stuff.” Vortex grinned up at the other. The barkeeper was at the other end of the counter, so he could speak freely. “You’re scared now?”

Blast Off frowned. “It takes a bit more for me to be scared than some empty words from someone who can’t even tail his target unnoticed.”

“Ouch,” Vortex hissed, still grinning. “But any way, what did you do for Ons?”

“I gave him a list of names he requested.”

“You’re an information broker?” Vortex asked, surprised. The shuttle didn’t seem like the type.

“Sometimes,” Blast Off replied, giving one of his one-sided shrugs. “I do a lot of stuff. Sometimes I collect information, sometimes I collect goods, or I collect people. It all depends.” He waved to the barkeeper and pointed to his cube, indicating he wanted a new drink.

Vortex nodded, showing that he’d heard. “I’ve worked for Ons for ages, but I’ve never seen you in Kaon.”

“I was off-planet for a very long time,” Blast Off explained. He gave a brief nod to the barkeeper when he got his new drink, but waited until they were gone again before continuing. “I’ve been on colonies, organic worlds, meteors, those kinds of places.”

“Space stations?” Vortex added with a grin, and was not prepared for Blast Off’s reaction. The purple visor glowed brightly for a fraction of an astrosecond, his hand clenched around the energon cube.

“No,” he ground out. “Not if I could avoid it.”

“Wow. You really don’t like space stations, huh?” Vortex’ optics widened behind his visor.

“That would be an understatement. Have you ever been to a space station?”

“Uh, no,” Vortex muttered. “Not that I can remember.”

Blast Off uttered a gruff, unintelligible mumble that sounded almost like, “You lucky fool.”

Vortex chose to ignore it. “Are you scared of space stations, then?” he wanted to know, partly honestly curious, partly as joke.

“Yeah,” was Blast Off unexpected answer. “Sometimes I am.”

“Oh.” Vortex glanced from the shuttle to the mirrored wall behind the counter and sipped from his cube. “But… they’re not, like, the reason you came to Kaon, are they?”

“Oh, no,” Blast Off said, and emptied his third cube. “I need to settle back on Cybertron since I was away for so long. I don’t want to get my citizenship revoked.”

Vortex’ optics widened again. You had to be off planet a very long time before they threatened your citizenship. So far, Vortex had never met anyone who had been even close to that. He tried to hide his surprise, but his rotors still flicked.

“And why of all places have you come to Kaon?” Vortex wondered. For a shuttle, there were better options. Altihex, for example, being the home of most space faring frames, or Iacon, since it suited people of higher castes better.

“Kaon is good,” Blast Off said. It was odd to hear it from a shuttle. “Here there’s work for my kind of business, and people don’t ask questions.” He glanced down at Vortex, a smirk on his lips. “Well, most people don’t.”

Vortex grinned back. “What can I say; I just have a curious nature.”

“That you have.” Blast Off puffed an amused huff from his vents, and Vortex decided he liked that sound.

“Seeing as you’ve just arrived, where are you staying tonight?” Vortex asked, keeping his voice even.

“Onslaught gave me a list of hotels he owns where I can get a discount. I’ll have a look into it.” Blast Off stared at his empty cube, turning it in his hand as if he pondered a new one.

“Yeah, his hotels are nice,” Vortex said. He bit his lip as not to grin to brightly. “They’re pretty expensive even with a discount, though.” He looked up at Blast Off, waiting for him to turn to him as well. When their visors met, Vortex added, “You could stay at my place for the night? It’d save you some money.”

Blast Off didn’t say anything for a long moment. He just kept looking at Vortex, his head tilted slightly.

“Well,” he said eventually, his lips forming an entertained smirk. “That wasn’t very subtle.” And then he laughed softly, his field flaring stronger than any time before, and Vortex shuddered. He wanted more of it.

“Don’t laugh,” he protested, equally amused and liking the sound very much. “For a moment I thought about showing you Onslaught’s best hotel. And for my standards, I was subtle.”

“Uh-huh?” Blast Off still grinned. “So I guess I should be thankful you didn’t just jump right at me?”

“You make it sound like a bad thing.” Vortex emptied his own drink. “Don’t blame me for taking my chance when I see it. We don’t have many shuttles here.”

“Oh, I didn’t blame you. In fact, I’m flattered.”

“So that’s a yes? I have a very comfy berth.” One he didn’t use very often, not with others; mostly he went to other people’s places.

“I’ve only had three drinks, how am I supposed to give you an answer right now?” Blast Off said, with a tone that gave Vortex hope.

“You know I’ll pay for these three drinks, but any more will be on your own expenses.” Vortex flicked his rotors and was happy to see Blast Off looking at them.

“You’re saying that, if I stop drinking now, I will save money on drinks _and_ a hotel?”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Vortex replied and emphasised his words with a resolute nod. When Blast Off kept staring at his empty cube, he added. “And we can get more high grade on the way to my apartment, too. It’s not far, and there’s a store close by.”

“Hmmm,” Blast Off hummed. His optics shifting their gaze from the cube back to Vortex’ quivering rotors and his field flared again. “Well…”

* * *

They didn’t get high grade on their way.

They went straight to Vortex’ apartment, and before the ‘copter could open the door, there was a hand on one of his rotor blades.

“You’re filthy,” Blast Off muttered from behind. His frame so close, Vortex’ rotors took in the warmth and made him shudder.

“You have no idea,” Vortex countered, leaning into the other.

There was this laugh again, so close to Vortex’ audials as lips brushed against the side of his helm. “Then show me.”

Vortex’ legs almost gave in.

The next thing he remembered he was up against the washrack wall, his legs wrapped around Blast Off’s waist, a hand under his aft for support. Warm cleanser rained down on them, washing away some of Kaon’s grime. He pulled the shuttle closer, his arms around the other’s neck and their lips met in a fierce kiss.

Vortex moaned softly. Sigma, those lips were so kissable, Blast Off’s frame so solid, huge, touchable. Trapped between the shuttle and the wall, his rotors clattered against the tiles, then stilled when a hand closed around his rotor hub. Fingers stroked delicate mechanisms, and Vortex bucked under the touch. His visor glowed brightly as he broke the kiss and pressed his face against Blast Off’s chest.

To the pit with subtle, to the pit with foreplay, he thought and let his interface panel click open. The shuttle’s energy field wrapped around him, making his plating tingle and prickle in pleasure and craving delight. Vortex didn’t want to only imagine how Blast Off would feel like plugged in.

“Impatient, aren’t you?” Blast Off rasped against Vortex’ audial, black fingers teasing Vortex’ port and the conductors inside.

Vortex turned his head, searching Blast Off’s lips for another kiss. “I waited until you finished three drinks,” he mumbled against the other’s smile.

“And that’s a lot of patience for your standards?” Blast Off guessed, amused.

Vortex nodded as well as he could without parting from Blast Off’s lip, but did so anyway as the shuttle plugged in and he gasped. Blast Off’s stream invaded him; it was everything Vortex had imagined – and more.

“Oh wow,” he breathed. This wasn’t like anything he’d ever tasted. His exclamation earnt him another one of those soft laughs, accompanied with a strong engine revving. Vortex mouthed a voiceless “frag” as he watched Blast Off taking his connector, leading it to his lips. The glossa teased it lightly, tickling its sensors.

Vortex bit his lower lip, his vents working fast as his cooling system whirled to life. He wanted Blast Off to complete the interface, but he also wanted to keep watching. This was so hot.

Onslaught never did this. He was never this playful, never this teasing.

“You’re so hot,” Vortex muttered.

Blast Off’s visor brightened. His hand with the connector dropped as he leant in for a kiss. Their chest plating met, vibrations travelling all through Vortex, into every inch of his body. Vortex clutched harder at Blast Off, at the broad shoulder, the tiled back and those strong upper arms. He didn’t let go of those lips again, not even when, finally, Blast Off plugged Vortex’ connector in and completed the interface.

Vortex gasped, and Blast Off groaned. Their stream mingled to a push-and-pull of charge, a feedback loop feeding off itself as pleasure rose and all teasing was forgotten.

Blast Off growled into the kiss, mumbling how good Vortex looked like this, how he liked the sounds he made. It made Vortex’ heat soar, his ventilation stutter. It had been ages since anyone had said something like that without him prompting it, without altering his energy field or using his voice to make them do what he wanted.

He shivered under the flood of charge, and the touch to his rotors. He gasped at the phantom sensations Blast Off sent that made his rotor blades heat and tingle. He bathed in Blast Off’s taste, his stream alien and tart, otherworldly and incomparable.

“’m close,” Vortex whined. It had been too long since he’d interfaced like this, just for the sake of it, with someone bigger and stronger than him.

Blast Off crushed him closer against the wall. Their plating squealed. “We have all night,” Blast Off said, his voice rough, and what he meant was it was okay, he didn’t mind, there could be more overloads later.

Vortex moaned. His charge increased tenfold, his field flared hotly, pressing against Blast Off’s who pushed back. Electric friction created blue lightning as cleanser pelted on hot frames.

Vortex’ fingers clawed at dark plating as pleasure surged back and forth. He whimpered, his optics flickered.

Overload hit him, and was still a surprise. It made sensors ring and joints tense. He writhed, rotor blades scratching on the wall. Charge lit up everything, and rushed from him.

Blast Off resisted longer. The hand on Vortex’ aft tensed, the shuttle’s energy field flared widely before his systems gave up to his climax. It was another wave of sensations, of this wonderful flavour Vortex tried to burn into his memory banks. He didn’t want to forget it. He strove in vain to find something to compare it to.

Vortex held on to the post-overload sensations. The tingle and gentle prickling on his frame, the heat of two bodies, and the cooler liquid from above. His optics were online, but his visual input blurred. The side of his helm rested on Blast Off’s shoulder, and he would have liked to stay like this for another joor.

Blast Off’s hand still supported him while the other slowly stroked up and down Vortex’ back.

Vortex thought he should feel ashamed for overloading so quickly, but somehow he couldn’t bring himself to. He was just too content right now.

“Do you have a sponge?” Blast Off asked, his voice hoarse.

“Yeah,” Vortex said, but didn’t move. “Why?”

There was this sound again, that soft laugh near Vortex’ audial, and at this moment he knew it would never fail to make him shiver. “You’re still filthy. A sponge would be helpful.”

Curse Kaon and its pollution, Vortex thought, but then imagined those dark hands cleaning his plating, wiping it gently with this tickling energy field flaring. With a tired grin, Vortex leant back and looked up. “I might even have two,” he answered, and reached behind him to press on one of the tiles. It slid aside and revealed a small storage of different cleanser, polishes, cloths and sponges.

“So you could help me, too.” Blast Off grinned, and caught his lips in a quick kiss. He let Vortex down, and took one of the sponges from the shelf.

The cleanser still rained down on them as they started to get to work. The grime was easily wiped off the smooth metal, but they didn’t stop.

Their movements were slow and measured, and Vortex found out quickly that the underside of Blast Off’s heat shields on his lower arms was sensitive.

Vortex also found out that the shuttle must have been with a rotary before. The way he touched his rotor hub made his optics flicker, and the stream of charge picked up again through their connection.

Vortex sighed, leaning in closer to Blast Off. His own strokes and touches slowed even more as his optics almost shut off. The sensations on his rotor hub were so distracting, so good. He shivered, his field flared and nudged against Blast Off’s.

Warmth turned into heat that spread from his rotors into every inch of his frame. The soft texture of the sponge teased the brackets of his rotors. It made them quiver, which only increased when Blast Off started to alter his stream. His rotors went alternately hot and cold, a prickling like lightning travelling over them.

“Oh,” Vortex mumbled when his legs almost gave in. He had to cling to Blast Off for support, but the shuttle didn’t seem to mind. A kiss was placed on the side of Vortex’ helm, and the shuttle took the sponge out of Vortex’ hand.

Vortex shuddered under the touch of two hands. Every plate of his armour was teased, the sponges squeezed into transformation seams while the assault of fake sensations on his rotors continued. His cooling fans whirled loudly again, but his moans were quiet, almost drowned out. He sighed more often, enjoying it all despite knowing he should return the pleasure. But moving was so hard, and thinking too. He just wanted to continue leaning against the shuttle, enveloped in his energy field.

Overload was unexpected. It was a crawling heat that made his mind black out as pleasure took over. His legs gave in, and he couldn’t care less. Strong arms wrapped around him so that he didn’t drop, a deep rumble near his audial could have been “there, there”, but Vortex didn’t pay it attention. He rode out the charge for what felt like hours.

“You okay there?” Blast Off’s voice dragged Vortex from the daze of overload. He was still hanging limp in the other’s arms, and for that, he was embarrassed. Especially with the flicker of amusement in Blast Off’s energy field that was buried under his arousal.

And this fact made Vortex come to his senses more quickly. The shuttle hadn’t overloaded. He straightened himself as much as he could, not wanting to move too much because he wanted Blast Off to keep his arms right where they were.

“Yeah,” Vortex mumbled under static. He rebooted his vocaliser and tried again. “Yeah, I’m good. Very good. Just-“ He barely detached himself from the other, grinning up at him apologetically. “I didn’t mean to, you know, and you didn’t-“ There was a hard push of charge through the interface that made Vortex’ visor brighten and vocaliser crackle. He both loved and hated it. It felt so good, but on the other hand Vortex was annoyed at himself. How could he not articulate himself? Or hold on to an overload?

He literally did interface for a living, this shouldn’t happen to him.

“I already told you we have all night, didn’t I?” Blast Off said. He moved one of his arms around Vortex to turn off the shower. “Where’s the bedroom?” he asked, and stopped Vortex from protesting in disappointment.

Confused he nodded to the door. “Uh, through the living room, the door on the right. Why a-whoa!” Vortex was interrupted again, this time by Blast Off picking him up and heaving him over his shoulder.

Vortex clutched at the other’s back. It was covered in tiles, black like the other heat-shields, but not as smooth as those black hands. His field extended without his conscious intent, rich with excitement. It had been too long since Vortex had been with someone stronger than him, and even longer since someone had made use of that strength.

He didn’t mind that they were dripping on the living room floor, and he also didn’t mind being manhandled like this with Blast Off’s hand on the small of his back. Vortex wiggled to get it closer to his rotor hub, but it only made the grip stronger and Blast Off huff amused. His field was still full of arousal.

“Patience really isn’t your strong point,” he said as he entered the bedroom.

Vortex grinned when he was put down on the berth. Their cables grew taut, but not for long when the shuttle climbed over him, the berth shifting under their weight. “How could I possibly be patient?” he asked, reaching to pull Blast Off down for a kiss.

The shuttle’s vents puffed another huff. He caught Vortex’ wrists, and pressed them down on the berth.

Vortex uttered a mix of a whine and a moan and was silenced with a hard press of Blast Off’s lips on his. “Leave them there,” Blast Off murmured. Before Vortex could steal another kiss, Blast Off moved on, nibbling along his throat cables and even further down. His fingers traced down Vortex’ arms, and all the places he’d touched with the sponges before were now teased by Blast Off’s lips and strong hands.

The interface came to life once more, a strong feedback loop that fed on the shuttle’s gentle strokes, the kisses on Vortex’ plating, and his own arousal. It made Vortex squirm, his rotors shuddered against the soft covering of the berth, and he pressed his back harder into it to get more friction on them.

It wasn’t often Vortex was passive like this, but then, it wasn’t often anyone offered him this kind of interface. Offlining his optics, he fully focused on the sensations and charge, and let himself let go.

His fingers dug into the soft covering of the berth when Blast Off’s glossa licked along his interface hardware. Hot wafts of air from the shuttle’s vents blew all over him, and it wasn’t before long that Blast Off’s lips were on Vortex’ again. The larger frame loomed over him, engine revving, vocaliser growling in what Vortex liked to think was possessiveness.

Blast Off overloaded first. It was an intense flare of his energy field, like a wave of electricity all swapping over Vortex followed by a hot current of blissful delight through the connection that took Vortex with it.

He slung his arms around Blast Off’s neck and buried his face in the other’s throat, shivering and plating trembling, savouring every moment.

When Blast Off rolled to the side, Vortex still clung to him, being dragged with the shuttle. The hot gusts of air were prolonging the post-overload sensation, and also soothing. It was a sign Blast Off was still alive, that Vortex wasn’t alone.

Their fields’ friction slowly ebbed along with the interface, settling to a silent ping of systems.

“That was good,” Vortex murmured against Blast Off’s plating. He sighed contently; he wouldn’t mind spending more nights like this. He didn’t voice his thought, not wanting to be hopeful and then disappointed, and said instead, “I’m glad you took my offer to buy you some drinks.”

“I don’t regret it either,” the shuttle replied, his voice rough with static.

Vortex heard the click of his vocaliser resetting, and grinned to himself. “You’re warm,” he said, snuggling even closer to the larger frame.

“So are you,” Blast Off commented. He heaved air in a yawn, and put his hand on Vortex back, just below the rotor hub. “Tell me to move if you overheat,” he continued more drowsily.

Vortex gave a brief nod, but he knew he wouldn’t say anything. He liked it warm. He hardly ever had the opportunity to lay with anyone like this. If it became too hot for his systems, any damage would be repaired within moments.

Exhaustion infested Blast Off’s EM signature, it drowned out some of his unique taste but was also pleasant mixture or bitter sweetness.

“Why are you so tired?” Vortex wanted to know. He wanted to make the moment last longer. He didn’t want to sleep just then. “Am I that exhausting?”

“Maybe?” Blast Off laughed, a soft sound, half laughter half huff. A shiver ran down Vortex back, and he knew some of the sensations the sound caused were transmitted through the connection. “I just arrived this morning from space,” Blast Off explained further. “And I don’t sleep much in space.”

Vortex didn’t know much about space travel, but that still surprised him. “Why?”

Blast Off’s shoulder twitched in a shrug. “It’s safer. You need to be prepared for everything.”

Vortex nudged Blast Off with his field, a soothing, tranquilising stroke. “And then I come around and deprive you of more sleep,” he said, only half joking.

But Blast Off chuckled again. “Well, I rather liked spending the evening with you. Way better than being deprived of sleep because I couldn’t find a decent hotel.”

Vortex snickered, and relaxed even more. It was good to hear the other didn’t regret it. He listened to another of the shuttle’s yawns, and offlined his optics. The other’s exhaustion was contagious, and while he didn’t mind Blast Off slipping into recharge, he wanted to stay awake a little longer.

Vortex also knew he should disconnect them, just to be on the safe side. He had never killed anyone in his sleep, but then, he hardly ever fell asleep next to anyone, least of all connected.

But first he wanted to listen to a few more pings from Blast Off’s system. They were less frequent now with him being asleep, but they told Vortex he wasn’t alone.

Shuffling as close as possible to the shuttle, Vortex muttered again, “You’re warm”. Then recharge claimed him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuity: G1 Succubus AU, Koan, pre-war  
> Rating: R  
> Disclaimer: Sadly, nothing is mine.  
> Beta: ultharkitty

Vortex woke up drowsily, his processor sluggish, the fans on his side whirring frantically.

A large arm was wrapped around him, hugging him close to a large warm frame. Their legs were intertwined, and it made Vortex grin even though his memory banks hadn’t fully booted. It was just nice to wake up with someone who was still warm.

With the other frame so close, Vortex’ cooling system couldn’t keep up – and he didn’t care.

His memories came back after a few astroseconds, and he remembered the mech. The shuttle with the intriguing energy field, the teasing laugh, the strong hands.

From the pings through the interface, Vortex knew the other was still in recharge. His optics onlined fully and he looked down his side.

They were still connected.

Rebooting his optics, Vortex stared and called himself an idiot. He didn’t need the visual reassurance, he could feel Blast Off’s presence.

Vortex settled again, staring at the plating in front of him, the shuttle’s alt-mode vents that didn’t seem to do anything in root-mode. They were a distraction from the alienness of the situation.

He hadn’t disconnected them last night, and Blast Off was still alive and warm. The shuttle hadn’t left.

Vortex’ field flared slightly in distress. He liked it, but he knew this wouldn’t happen again soon, and he should get up before he got used to it.

“You okay?” the shuttle’s hoarse voice dragged Vortex away from his train of thoughts. He must have sensed the tension.

“Yeah,” Vortex muttered and didn’t move.

“Sorry,” Blast Off said and was about to shuffle away. “I didn’t mean to get so close. You’re probably overheating.”

“It’s okay,” Vortex cut in quickly and put his hand on Blast Off’s side, keeping him down before the other could detangle himself. “I like it warm.”

A huff left Blast Off’s vents, but Vortex couldn’t tell if he was amused. He didn’t reply, and he didn’t move, so Vortex thought it was a good sign. After a few moments, Blast Off’s thumb started to stroke lazy circles below the rotor hub, and Vortex couldn’t help but relax into the touch.

“When do you have to go to work?” Blast Off asked, his intentions unclear.

Vortex shrugged. “I’m not working on a project right now. So whenever Onslaught calls.” He was in some sort of limbo after Freefall. He’d run a few smaller jobs, but all of them were way below his league. He’d only got them because he’d asked Onslaught for work, but he wouldn’t do it now. Not when staying in bed was the alternative. “You?”

“Gonna head to space this evening.”

Vortex could stop himself from vocalising a disappointed “oh”. He let the other continue.

“I'm also gonna have an apartment viewing in an hour or so,” Blast Off said with a sigh. Discontent was in the energy field, and Vortex could guess the shuttle really wasn’t looking forward to it.

“How is the apartment?” Vortex asked just to say something.

“I don’t know,” Blast Off replied with a one-shoulder shrug. “That’s why I’m viewing it. Found the ad on the public network yesterday.”

“Uh-huh,” Vortex uttered, a small grin on his lips as he shuffled a little closer. “And it’s close by or…?”

At that Blast Off laughed. Vortex’ rotors trembled at the sound. He had to stop himself from clinging even tighter to the other because the laugh reverberated from the interface and energy field right through him. “Do you want it to be close?” Blast Off wanted to know, his grin audible.

“I wouldn’t mind it,” Vortex said, nudging Blast Off’s EM field with his.

“You really don’t do subtle,” the shuttle commented, but he didn’t seem annoyed.

“It’s my special charm.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed,” Blast Off said amused. He placed a kiss on the top of Vortex’ helm and rolled on his back.

Vortex whined in protest when the heat source was gone, and flopped on his front, his face hidden in the berth.

“It’s a thirty minute walk, and I don’t want to be late.” Blast Off commented his sudden movement, sitting up next to Vortex if the shift of the mattress was any indication. “And we should both refuel.”

Vortex didn’t need fuel; it had only been a few days since Freefall. He needed to stay in bed with a warm shuttle next to him. That was all he wanted. He didn’t voice his thoughts, just remained lying on his front for another few seconds before turning his head. “I don’t have any energon at home.”

Blast Off raised an optical ridge. “No storage?”

“Uh-uh. I hardly ever eat here.” Venting air deeply, Vortex heaved himself up and sat back on his knees next to the shuttle. “But you got that bag from the energon shop?”

The shuttle looked at Vortex. “Right… where did I put it?” His visor was slightly widened and his energy field dripped with confusion.

Oh frag. Vortex wanted to kiss him right _now_. And couldn’t, because the shuttle chose the moment Vortex was about to lean in to turn and get up.

“I think it’s in the hallway?” he said as he left the bedroom, the remnants of the EM field still lingering in the air. Vortex sighed, waiting until the last of it was gone and letting himself drop back on the berth.

It didn’t take long for Blast Off to return. Two cubes in his hand, he tilted his head when he saw Vortex lying down again. “Drink that,” he said as he held out a cube. “You look like you need it.”

Vortex stuck out his tongue, but struggled to sit back up, and took the cube. “Thanks,” he muttered.

Standard energon wasn’t his favourite. It tasted boring and plain, but he kept the façade and cracked the cube open. Vortex liked high-grade, because it had an effect on him, and some of the snacks didn’t taste too bad either. Though, none of the kinds of fuel did anything against his hunger or his falling energy levels.

“I’m going to head off now.” Blast Off looked down at the ‘copter. “Thank you for letting me stay the night. It was fun.”

“Yeah, it was,” Vortex grinned up from his cube. “So, where do you need to go? You said thirty-minutes walk? Could take the trains, then you’re quicker.”

Blast Off made a face that almost caused Vortex to laugh. “I don’t like public transport during the day. It’s… crowded.”

“Well,” Vortex tilted his head, “It’s public, so yes. But faster?”

Blast Off shrugged. “I want to get to know the city better.”

Vortex emptied his cube in one go, and swiftly stood up. “I’ll walk you there. Then you can show me the place, and I can check the landlord. Some of these folks are sleazy as slag. You might not see through them.”

Blast Off frowned, sipping from his drink once. “I’m pretty certain I could-“

“ _I_ am pretty certain you couldn’t.” Vortex poked the shuttle with his index finger on the chest. “The people in Kaon are one of a kind, and you’ve been off planet so long, you’re about to get your citizenship revoked. I’m coming with you.”

Blast Off’s visor flickered. “You have a weird way to see your one night stand off…” he mumbled.

“So, that’s a yes?” Vortex grinned.

Blast Off’s frown deepened. “I didn’t think you would give me a choice, seeing as you don’t accept a no?”

“Right.” Vortex patted Blast Off’s shoulder and headed to the bedroom door. “Let’s go.”

The shuttle sighed behind him. “You’re also one of a kind,” he mumbled.

You have no idea, Vortex added in his mind, but didn’t say so, and tried to ignore the giddiness caused by the shuttle’s comment.

* * *

Vortex watched Blast Off. The shuttle’s battle mask hid his face, but everything else from his posture to the flicker of energy field radiated dissatisfaction.

The apartment they were viewing was anything but high standard. It looked like a remodelled storage unit. The single tiny window was dirty, and the improvised shower was put in a corner of the room, only separated by an equally dirty curtain.

Vortex wasn’t surprised that this apartment didn’t have a tenant, and he would be surprised if it would get rented out anytime soon. Vortex knew the price for the place. Blast Off had told him earlier.

On the way there Vortex had asked Blast Off about anything and everything, starting with what his next job was, but to which the shuttle only replied he wasn’t allowed to tell. Vortex also wanted to know about Blast Off’s past, and so far he knew that he had once been a scientist, but after that had worked for the military.

Blast Off had been quite taciturn about it all, and had brushed Vortex off eventually with another statement about him being a one night stand, so Vortex didn’t need to know his CV.

Vortex had changed the topic, and hadn’t mentioned that he wouldn’t mind a repeat of last night, even if he couldn’t quite figure out yet why he felt that way. Sure the shuttle was hot, and he knew what he was going with a rotary – Vortex’ blades twitched at the memory – but there was more. A feeling that he wanted to keep Blast Off interested in him.

“Where are the other rooms?” the shuttle said, dragging Vortex’ mind to the issue of the unappealing flat.

“What other rooms?” the landlord said. He was a well-polished truck, and Vortex guessed he could afford special wax if he ripped all his tenants off. “This is the apartment. There is a small storage aisle under the floor next to the door.” He went to the corner next to the entry and tapped with his food on the ground. It sounded hollow.

Blast Off tilted his head. All of him radiated an unspoken “are you fraggin’ kidding me?” that made Vortex snicker.

“We’re done here,” the shuttle said, and just walked out.

Vortex saw the landlord’s optics flicker before he ran after the shuttle. “Wait for me.” 

“That was a waste of time,” Blast Off muttered, disgruntled, once Vortex had caught up to him.

“You could check if someone has another viewing today? Sometimes there are public viewings you can go to without contacting the landlord first,” Vortex suggested, but Blast Off shook his head.

“I don’t have the patience to look for more places, and neither do I have the time.” The shuttle let out a “hmpf” sound, then a sigh.

“I see.” Vortex glanced up at the other. “I can give you a list of relatively decent areas where it’s worth looking for places, if you want?”

Blast Off shrugged. “Sure, why not.”

Vortex grinned. “And you can also always crash at my place until you found something nice.”

Blast Off looked at him dubiously, but didn’t decline the offer.

“Oh,” Vortex uttered in surprise, as an urgent message popped up in his HUD. It was Onslaught, //Mission meeting in 15, my office.//

“What is it?” The shuttle tilted his head.

Vortex vented air loudly. “Remember I told you how I go in to work when Ons calls?”

“Let me guess, you just got that call?”

Vortex nodded. “I’m sorry?”

“What for?” Blast Off frowned. “I need to head to Kaon airport anyway. I need to be in Altihex by the afternoon.”

Right, the shuttle was heading into space. The ‘copter grinned up at him again. “I meant what I said just now,” he said, “Give me a call when you’re back from space and in Kaon.” Which hopefully wouldn’t be when Vortex was on a mission somewhere else.

Blast Off looked at him, the face blank. Vortex didn’t know what it meant as the other’s energy field was drawn tight. The flat stare and lack of enthusiasm wasn’t disappointing, but Blast Off’s answer was: “I might.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuity: G1 Succubus AU, Koan, pre-war  
> Disclaimer: Sadly, nothing is mine.  
> Beta: ultharkitty

Vortex sighed and sipped from his drink.

Helex was boring.

It was his third evening in the city, more precisely his third evening in this particular bar. He couldn’t even go out and discover other areas, because sitting here in the bar was part of his mission.

The barkeeper glanced at him every so often, her shoulder wheels twitching nervously. By now Vortex was the only guest, and he would remain until the bar closed.

Sealer, the barkeeper, paid Onslaught protection money, and so far everything had been okay. That was, until a few weeks back when a group of idiots had begun to cause trouble. They had robbed her and destroyed some of the furniture.

When they came back, Onslaught had his people ready, though the three person team was badly hurt. Winder died; another rotary, and a friend. It made this mission personal.

The second team couldn’t change much either, but they were at least able to report what kind of gang it was. They seemed to be veterans, which made Onslaught furious. During the briefing, Vortex had flinched when Onslaught’s field had flared with rage. It was a sharp salty sting all over his body, the kind that Vortex hated and tried to avoid. He was always glad when he wasn’t the reason for it, though it was still unsettling.

Since two teams had failed with serious losses, Onslaught had sent Vortex. Usually this kind of mission was beneath him.

But when everything failed, send in the monster. Vortex sighed again.

Sealer was wary of him. She had seen two of Onslaught’s teams go down, and now the boss had sent in one single person. Vortex could only guess what was going on in her head.

At least the drinks were free, though Vortex wasn’t allowed more than one every evening. He wasn’t here for fun, and waiting definitely wasn’t fun at all.

“I’m closing in a few minutes,” Sealer said. She never came within arm’s reach of him. “They always showed up some time after closing when the lights are still on,” she explained again, just like she had the first night.

Vortex gave a nod. “You might want to head upstairs after you close. Just in case they come tonight.” Onslaught wouldn’t be happy if their client died because Vortex wasn’t careful – and he couldn’t promise he would be.

“I still need to clean and sort the bar,” Sealer replied, making Vortex sigh yet again. Hopefully she was fast enough to flee once the gang arrived.

There was something in the air tonight, a different smell that made Vortex’ rotors tingle. He couldn’t describe it. He was a lot of things, but he was no fortune teller, though he was certain they would show up this evening.

Two more hours passed, and Vortex came to terms that his feeling had been wrong. The door was locked, and Sealer put the last chairs on the tables to make space for the cleaning drone to wipe the floor.

It looked like Vortex was stuck another night and day in Helex, waiting and being bored.

Sealer started the drone; it greeted her with a beep, before beginning to crawl over the ground. Vortex watched it head to a corner and working its way along the wall, passing the entry.

The door opened with a screech, flinging the drone into the room.

Vortex tilted his head. It was one of these weirdly timed moments that usually happened in those comedy shows Brawl used to watch.

“Good evening, Sealer,” the mech entering announced. He was taller than Vortex, about the size of Onslaught, maybe even bigger. The cannon in his hand was the size of Vortex’ leg, and Vortex wondered how he could walk through Helex without the authorities noticing. Vortex frowned. Maybe the authorities had been paid off, or threatened. He had to tell Onslaught about it, and make sure one of them survived long enough to talk.

Sealer was running behind the counter, not waiting for Vortex to tell her again to hide. The door between the shelves opened, and she was gone before the second brute entered the bar.

“Awww,” the second one whined. His weapons were mounted to his forearms, their muzzle large enough for Vortex’ fist to fit in. “You’re the next in line to try to make us leave?”

Sipping from his cube, Vortex shook his head slightly. “No,” he said after putting his drink down. “I’m here to make you an example.”

They laughed. A third snicker mingled with theirs when a sleeker build appeared next to the others. Vortex studied them in his peripheral vision. The two big ones seemed to be tanks, or off-road armed vehicles, the last one might have been a tracker or recon. Onslaught would hate to get the suspicion confirmed that these were veterans. His boss might run a criminal organisation, but he had his morals and code. This gang obviously didn’t.

“How about _we_ make an example of _you_ ,” the first brute suggested, but it was the sleeker one who moved fast.

Vortex saw it, but couldn’t react quickly enough, and a blade struck his throat. It buried itself deep through his cables and sliced his vocaliser.

His visor flickered as pain shot through his frame like a shockwave.

Frag, he scolded himself for having been too relaxed.

There was another laugh between the ringing in his audials. “So much for-“

Vortex pulled the blade free.

“What the-?”

He didn’t respond. He couldn’t talk anyway with the damage to his vocaliser. Not for a moment, anyway; he already felt his cables reconnecting, healing, and his vocal unit beginning to itch. Though, there was no point in saying anything anyway. Instead he took a few seconds to inspect the blade. Thankfully it hadn’t been too wide. It was made of metal, sharp on two edges.

Vortex preferred laser blades. They were easier to hide on the frame because you could shut them down.

He stood up.

“Don’t move!” the brute with the large cannon shouted, and fired. It hit him in the shoulder, melting and scorching. The force made Vortex take a step back, and he glared. First at the wound, then at the gang.

“For frag’s sake,” he hissed, “that hurts!” He hated being shot. Thankfully it wasn’t a projectile, though. His self-repair sometimes had problems ejecting foreign bodies or assimilating the metal.

“Who are you?” one of the gang asked.

Vortex didn’t reply.

He charged.

The other brute shot twice. He missed once, the other was a graze that took out a good part of Vortex’ waist. The pain caused him almost to stumble. He was able to dodge another shot and a second blade flying at him.

Vortex took care of the sleek built first. He could see the surprise in their optics when Vortex appeared in front of them, their own blade still in his hand only for him to ram it into their neck. The other gargled, a hand coming up to the wound, but Vortex caught it. He grabbed the wrist, his other hand clinging to the helm as he pulled the legs from under them with his own. Rolling, they crashed to the ground, Vortex turning the head at the same time, pulling it from the frame like a screw.

“You!” one of the others growled and fired, and hit the sleek dead frame as Vortex pushed it in front of him. He got up swiftly, his shoulder and side healed by now, and he had no intention of getting hit again.

The brute with the in-built weapons was still closer to the door, staring at the beheaded frame in shock. They might have been a couple, Vortex wondered for an astrosecond, before he charged again.

Another shot missed him, this one from the larger cannon, the biggest mech standing in the middle of the room, chairs and tables cluttered in a mess around him.

Vortex wasn’t armed aside from his laser scalpels, but he didn’t need to be.

“What-?” the closer brute said when Vortex was suddenly behind him, an arm wrapped around his thick throat, their frames close. With his weapons on his arms, he couldn’t shoot, and his companion wouldn’t either, afraid to hit his friend.

The mech might have just turned or shaken Vortex off, but the ‘copter didn’t let him. His field flared, strong, alluring, seeping under armour and into the mind. The large frame relaxed almost instantly against Vortex, and he grinned. That was quick. He kept his field pulsing, promising everything the other could imagine.

“He wants to hurt me,” Vortex whispered into the other’s audial, vibrations traveling along his frame, his voice a surge, flowing into the processor, weakening the will. “You don’t want him to hurt me,” he continued, and earned a brief shake of the brute’s head.

“What’s wrong with you?” the other brute spat. His large weapon was ready, just waiting for Vortex to emerge from behind his friend. At that, Vortex’ hostage raised his arms, the muzzles glowing with charge, almost ready to fire.

“Hey!” the other yelled but Vortex had an unbending grip on his victim. ”Don’t!” he tried again, but the mech fired at his friend and at Vortex.

Vortex saw the shot coming. Before it hit, he ducked out from beneath the large mech, storming towards the last one. Still in shock for having shot at his companion, he reacted too late. Dodging a slow punch, Vortex lunged out.

His first hit the helm, and sent the mech flying across the room. The frame hit the wall and slid down. A pained groan was almost inaudible. Vortex only heard it when he came closer, picking up the weapon from the ground.

The mech’s face plates were broken, one optic was offline and he was spitting energon. Vortex must have raptured one of his neck cables by accident.

“Who are you?” the mech asked again, his voice as broken as his frame.

Vortex shrugged. “Wrong question,” he said, and punched him again. It was supposed to be ‘what’, he thought, watching the second optic flicker offline as the mech drifted into unconsciousness.

With the gun, Vortex went back to the other brute. He wasn’t dead, the shot having hit his abdomen. He was losing energon quickly, but his friend hadn’t damaged him enough to die anytime soon.

The optics glowed brighter when Vortex approached, and their energy fields touched. The other’s was still longing, enchanted even now. This didn’t happen too often, only with weak minds or stupid people.

Staring at the wounded mech, Vortex pondered on eating. It would be easy now.

He sighed and decided against it. Sealer might come back down in a few moments, and he didn’t really have an appetite anyway. Readying the weapon, Vortex fired, the helm exploded.

His shoulder and side still ached, and his neck had an annoying twinge even though the damage was gone. Vortex didn’t like being wounded like that. He sat back down at the counter and emptied his cube. Then he pinged Onslaught for the clean-up-team.

* * *

Sealer hadn’t said anything when she had come down. She had only stared at Vortex, and listened silently when he’d told her that Onslaught’s people would clean up the mess. Onslaught himself would come and visit her in two days to talk about further “insurance”, and compensation for the trouble she was put to.

Onslaught took his clients seriously.

Thankfully, covered in energon as he was, Vortex hadn’t needed to go through Helex. Sealer had given him one of the handful of rooms she rented out, and now the rotary stood under the shower and let the warm water rain on him.

Most of the energon washed away by itself, the other parts could wait.

Vortex stared at the metal tiles of the shower room. The showed a distorted mirror image. His frame was complete, no holes or burn marks. Even the paint was repaired – his normal grey.

He sighed, vents spluttering water.

This was why he didn’t get a repaint or a more colourful paintjob. Whenever his plating repaired itself, it came out grey again. It made him wonder if he used to be military as well. Sure, he had battle programming installed, but that was nothing special. The codes were easily available on the black market. Even Onslaught traded in them.

Forcing himself not to think about it any further, Vortex took a sponge from the shelf and started to rub the remaining energon and scorchmarks from his plating. He grinned to himself when he remembered Blast Off doing that just a few days ago. It seemed so long ago now.

He just turned his attention to his shoulder joints when a message announcement popped up in his HUD.

It was Onslaught.

“Good work”, it said in glyphs. “Take the next three days off. See you in the office after.” Attached, Vortex found the code for his plane back the following afternoon. At least he could sleep in. It also meant Vortex wouldn’t be the one who interrogated the survivor of today’s assault.

Maybe it was for the better. The guy was freaked out by Vortex, and he might not talk without Vortex enchanting him. Something the ‘copter wasn’t keen on doing for interrogations.

The dryer made the last drops disappear quickly, and Vortex fell front first onto the soft berth.

It was comfortable, pliant and heated. He sprawled over the whole berth, his rotor blades spinning slowly. As tired as he was, minutes passed, then an hour, and still he couldn’t sleep.

Vortex hated sleeping alone.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuity: G1 Succubus AU, Koan, pre-war  
> Disclaimer: Sadly, nothing is mine.  
> Beta: ultharkitty

Onslaught checked his chronometer, and didn’t allow himself to frown. It was afternoon already, and it was his fault that he hadn’t specified a time when Vortex should come to his office.

The ‘copter had done a good job. Two of the attackers were dead, and in a shape to easily display them somewhere as an example. The third was alive, if not well, but talkative, and obviously scared of Vortex.

Onslaught just had to suggest the ‘copter doing the interrogation and Piston Head had started to talk without much more prompting.

Still, Vortex’ unreliability if it came to appointments was grating.

Onslaught was annoyed, and really didn’t want to do it, but he pinged the rotary anyway. Unlike he’d expected, the answer came promptly.

//I’m stuck in traffic. There was an accident on the fifth west-south-west main road.// Vortex sounded tired and irritated. //They blocked air traffic, too. Gonna ping you once I’m close.//

//You do that. I’ll be in my office.//

There was a sound like almost a sigh over the comm. //Yeah, see you later.// Vortex voice was odd, and Onslaught repressed his own sigh until the comm was cut.

He needed to remember that blunt military talk didn’t resonate well with the ‘copter. Even if he looked like he’d served, Vortex hadn’t. Or he didn’t have any memories of it.

Shaking his head to clear his mind, Onslaught directed his attention to the datapads Pointer had brought earlier. He needed to get an overview of the losses from the whole Helex incident.

Onslaught had just put away the fourth pad when Vortex opened the door. He hadn’t pinged before.

“Sorry,” he said, sitting down on the chair opposite Onslaught. “I didn’t mean to show up this late.”

Onslaught nodded. “You look tired,” he said, but thought he might instead have been hungover. He didn’t mention it, because Vortex might take it the wrong way. It wasn’t meant to be an accusation.

Vortex shrugged. His rotor blades moved slightly, but not on purpose. Onslaught could tell the difference by now.

“I am. Couldn’t really sleep that well.”

“The damage to your frame?” Onslaught knew Vortex healed quickly, but the sensations of the injuries remained a while longer.

Vortex shook his head. “Nah, just difficult to settle down. Happens now and then.” He tried to play it down. Onslaught made a mental note about that. That was something to keep an optic on.

Sure, Vortex was his employee, and he cared for all his employees, but Vortex wasn’t a normal person. There was still so much that Onslaught didn’t understand about him, or didn’t know yet, because the ‘copter didn’t talk about it. It made it impossible for Onslaught to help, and he didn’t like it.

“Thanks to you, we know a lot more about the situation in Helex,” Onslaught changed the topic and made Vortex perk up. “There is a new group trying to establish business there, and they already have supporters in the police force.”

“Complicated issue then?” Vortex frowned as Onslaught nodded. “Do you want me to have a closer look into it?”

“Eventually. For now, I need to observe. I met with Sealer earlier, and she’ll send me any information she has on an emergency frequency. She also pointed out that our display of the bodies had calmed things down in her area.”

Vortex gave a brief nod. “Good to hear. Doesn’t help Winder, though,” he muttered.

The two rotaries had been friends. Onslaught felt responsible for the loss. He should have taken the issue more seriously, then no one would have been killed or even hurt that badly. It was stupid a thought, because there was no way he could have known how things would turn out.

“I offered Collapse a job,” Onslaught said, “and also to pay for his treatment.” He and Winder had been a couple for forever, and Onslaught felt responsible for the other as well, even if they weren’t associated with Onslaught’s business.

Vortex nodded briefly at the news. It seemed to be time to change the topic again. Onslaught pushed a key on his console, and one of the screens behind him turned on. It showed a bleak room with only a berth in it.

Vortex’ visor lit up.

“Do you recognise him?” Onslaught guess, but already knew the answer.

“I never asked for his name.”

“Piston Head,” Onslaught replied. “And he told us a lot already, but I know he’s lying about certain things, or he’s holding information back.”

Vortex frowned. “You want me to hack him?”

The ‘copter seemed much less enthusiastic about the prospect than when he’d dealt with Freefall.

“I want you to read the interrogation logs and look for more when you uplink.” Onslaught handed Vortex two datapads. “Extract everything you find useful.”

“Okay…”

“And you can also ‘eat’ once you’re done.” Onslaught leaned back, glancing at the screen showing the obviously bored mech on the berth. “I have no need for him any more.” Even with this news, Vortex didn’t seem more keen on the task, and just gave another nod. It was odd, because Vortex should be hungry.

Unless, of course, Vortex had hunted during the last few days, though Onslaught hadn’t heard of any violent murders. Well nothing that looked like Vortex’ doing.

“I will find out who killed Winder,” Vortex said as he got up.

“And you will tell me,” Onslaught replied. “I don’t need you to go on your own revenge spree.”

Vortex just headed to the door.

“Did you hear me?” Onslaught used his military voice. It made the rotary’s blades twitch, but Vortex turned to him. Onslaught’s visor was bright, a stern glare. “ _Did you understand?_ ”

“Understood.”

Staring at the ‘copter a moment longer, Onslaught eventually spoke again. “He’s in room one-o-nine.”

Without a nod or another word, Vortex left.

Once the door was closed and Onslaught was alone in his office, he relaxed.

Onslaught liked Vortex, but the rotary was so difficult sometimes. It didn’t help that Onslaught knew that if Vortex wanted it, he would be dead. He also just wished the ‘copter knew Onslaught meant well.

With a sigh, Onslaught turned to the screen - just in time to see Vortex entering the cell. When Piston Head noticed him, the fear in his face was obvious.

This tank was almost twice as wide as Vortex, and more than a head taller, but he pressed himself into the corner of the room. The video feed was muted. Onslaught didn’t need, and didn’t want to hear what was said. With Piston Head’s frantic movements, Onslaught could well guess the mech told Vortex not to come closer.

Which Vortex did anyway. He was only one step from the berth when Piston Head’s resistance and fear started to melt away without any indication of why. Vortex climbed onto him on the berth, and that was when Onslaught looked away.

* * *

It hadn’t taken long. Not even a breem, and Piston Head had become grey and lifeless.

Vortex hasn’t felt like playing, and it never felt right if his prey only submitted because of his enchantment. It brought up too many bad memories.

Piston Head hadn’t known much more. There were a few names Onslaught would be interested in, and Vortex knew who had killed Winder. He glanced at the datapad in his hand.

The door to Onslaught’s office opened. His boss still sat at the desk – and Vortex stopped in his tracks.

The screen was still on, still showing the room one-o-nine.

Vortex tensed. Had Onslaught watched him?

He didn’t know how he felt about that. Dirty, and like he’d been caught, even though Onslaught had to know what would happen. It was different if Vortex knew he’d been watched.

Onslaught frowned at him, then looked behind him at the screen. He didn’t comment on the image, and Vortex didn’t dare ask.

“Did you find anything new?” Onslaught wanted to know, and Vortex walked closer. He didn’t sit down.

“I did. But it wasn’t much.” He gave Onslaught the datapad. “A few more names, and the name of the person who killed Winder.”

Looking up, Onslaught’ visor brightened. “So?”

“Dicer.” Vortex sighed. “And I already killed them. It was the sleek one.”

Onslaught nodded. “From the look of them, it must have been a painful death.”

“I hope so,” Vortex ground out. If he’d known before, he would have incapacitated them and taken his time.

“Are you okay?” Onslaught asked, and caught Vortex by surprise.

His optics behind the visor flickered. “Uh, yeah, just tired.” It wasn’t completely true, but also not really a lie.

“If your insomnia persists, I want you to see a medic about it.” Onslaught gave him a stern look that Vortex knew better than to argue with.

He tried anyway. “You know medics can’t do much for me.”

“This is not up for discussion. I want you to come in in two days. If you look like this then, you will go to medbay.” Onslaught leant back on his chair, radiating authority that at any other time Vortex would have found attractive.

“Fine,” he muttered in defeat, and waved a hand. He didn’t like medbays.

“Good. Now go and catch up on some sleep,” Onslaught said. Vortex realised his boss didn’t use ‘dismissed’. He was already at the door when Onslaught spoke up again. “You didn’t ask, but I want to tell you anyway: I didn’t watch.”

Vortex stopped himself from turning, but he didn’t hold back the display of his whole frame relaxing. “Thank you,” he murmured, more to himself than wanting Onslaught to hear him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuity: G1 Succubus AU, Koan, pre-war  
> Disclaimer: Sadly, nothing is mine.  
> Beta: ultharkitty

Vortex didn’t go to bed, and he didn’t head home either. He wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyway. Especially after having eaten, and still feeling the foreign presence lingering in his systems.

He disliked it when that happened. When the energy wasn’t assimilated neatly into his own and the phantom sensations of a foreign consciousness lingered. It should be better in a few hours, but that was still too long.

Vortex headed to his favourite bar. It was a good day to get drunk. If he passed out, it would be even better, maybe he would get some defrag time from it.

For this time of the day, the bar was oddly empty. But wasn’t there some sort of sports event going on? That might have been the reason.

The missing crowds had one advantage, because he noticed Blast Off sitting at the counter.

The shuttle was slumped on a barstool, his energon cube still half full, looking as tired as Vortex felt.

“Hey,” Vortex greeted the other before he sat down.

Blast Off winced, as though having been dragged back to reality from his musings. His visor lit up when he noticed Vortex, and that reaction was more than Vortex had expected. It was difficult to hide his grin.

“Vortex,” Blast Off said, nodding ever so slightly. “It’s been a while.” The shuttle’s voice sounded as exhausted as he looked, and Vortex was confused at his words.

“Not too long,” he replied with a smirk, “Just over a week. Or were you already missing me?” He nudged the other with his energy field, relaxing at the sensation when they touched. It was still intriguing and alluring.

Blast Off frowned, his look unfocused, staring through Vortex. “Just a week? It felt longer…” He shook his head.

Vortex tilted his head. “You okay?” It seemed he wasn’t the only one who was glad to be done with his job.

Emptying his drink in one go, Blast Off waved to the barkeeper once the cube had touched down. “I’m fine, just tired,” he muttered.

The barkeeper sat down another drink in front of the shuttle, and served Vortex his usual high grade. The rotary accepted it with a smile.

“Me too. I’m glad I’m back in Kaon,” he said, thinking of Helex and its posh areas; he’d felt alien there. The snobby side didn’t help with Helex’ corruption; Vortex thought it made it all worse.

“Yeah,” Blast Off mumbled again, and Vortex frowned at how unresponsive the other was. He liked the playful, teasing Blast Off better.

“Was space awful this time?” Vortex asked, coaxing the other to share more information.

Blast Off turned his head slightly, half his visor was visible, staring at Vortex. “Not really, just… unusual.” His optics offlined as he shook his head, as though wanting to shake off unpleasant memories. “Space can be difficult, and the job wasn’t as easy as I hoped. So… yeah, I’m tired.”

“And you haven’t slept in space?” Vortex offered.

At that, Blast Off huffed, a sound of amusement that made Vortex grin and relax. “You remembered that?”

“Course I did.” Vortex sipped from his drink and leant his elbows on the counter, looking up from beneath at the other “You’re interesting, so I memorize everything you say.”

Behind the visor, Vortex could see Blast Off raising an optical ridge. “That was just a tiny bit creepy.”

“Heh,” Vortex uttered, “And kinda true. You’re interesting, and I like you.”

“You hardly know me,” Blast Off said. “It’s not like we _talked_ much last time we met.”

Vortex shrugged. “I know enough to know that I like you.”

Blast Of huffed, it sounded amused again, and Vortex grinned.

“So, what kind of job was it in space?” Vortex wanted to know.

“It wasn’t a job for Onslaught,” Blast Off sipped from his drink, “and so I’m not allowed to tell you. Where have you been?”

Drinking from his drink as well, Vertex smirked. “You’re not working for Onslaught yet, so I’m not allowed to tell you.”

At that, Blast Off laughed. Vortex’ rotor blades quivered, and he had to resist edging closer to the shuttle. The other’s energy field was tinted with amusement under the exhaustion, and it was nice to know he was the reason for that.

They were quiet for a moment, just drinking slowly from their cubes. It was a good silence, one that Vortex was surprised he enjoyed.

“Can you tell me when you got back?” Vortex tried again with a charming smile, and earnt a grin in return.

“Today,” Blast Off answered, “in Kaon anyway. I arrived two days ago in Altihex and was there for a while.”

“I’ve never been to Altihex,” Vortex said with a frown, “not that I remember. What’s it like there?”

Blast Off glanced at him, tilting his head. His expression dubious for a moment. “People usually remember if they were in Altihex or not. It’s very clean, many fliers…”

Vortex’ jaw clenched. His situation was complicated, and while he liked Blast Off, he wasn’t fond of the idea telling him “Hey, I kind of suffer from memory loss from my early life.” That was something for a different evening, and only if the other ever asked.

“Well, I haven’t been there then. It’s the home of space flight, that much I know,” Vortex smiled again. “You don’t sound like you like it though.”

“I don’t.” Blast Off drank the last bit of his high grade and looked at his cube for an astrosecond before waving towards the barkeeper again. “It’s a totalitarian hell.”

Vortex nodded to show he had heard, but he didn’t know how to reply to that. Instead he changed the topic again. “So, if you arrived today, you have a place already where you can stay?”

Blast Off raised an optical ridge, his lips twitching to a smirk. “No, but from your very subtle question, I take it your offer to crash at your place still stands?”

Vortex grinned back. “I never withdrew it.”

Blast Off laughed once more, a quiet dry sound before he sipped his dark drink. “I have to disappoint you, and tell you that I’m in no condition for a repetition of last time, though.” The smirk changed into a weary smile. “I’m too tired.”

Vortex shrugged. “Yeah, I’m not up for anything tonight either.” He had overloaded earlier. It hadn’t been pleasurable, one of the times when he had just eaten quickly, draining everything fast and thorough. An overload of a nice kind would make the prey’s presence ebb faster. It might make the annoying feeling of emptiness go away. But everything Vortex wanted to do and would be happy doing was to go home and hide. If he could snuggle up to a warm shuttle in the process, and bathe in his energy field, it was all for the better.

“I’m happy to put up with your couch,” Blast Off said, “if I don’t need to find a hotel tonight that would be good, and I saw you have one.”

“You can sleep with me on the berth?” Vortex looked at the other with a weak smile. It was hard to hide his voice from becoming pleading. Blast Off raised an optical ridge, and Vortex explained, “You’re warm. I like that.”

Blast Off laughed softly. “So I have to pay with my body anyway?”

“I don’t mean it like that,” Vortex replied with a frown. He didn’t want Blast Off to think that. “Like I said, I like you.” Vortex shrugged. “You don’t judge me. You don’t… look at me like most people do. I like that.”

“Judge you?”

Vortex’ rotor blades flicked down as to stop himself from shrugging. “You don’t know _the stories_ , you don’t know the gossip. You don’t believe they’re true when they’re not. I’ve been in this business, in Kaon, too long already.” Now Vortex’s shoulders twitched again. “You don’t judge me.” He grinned at Blast Off. “And you’re warm. I like that.”

Blast Off’s smile had a surprised edge to it, his field flared without his conscious intent, Vortex could tell the difference as well as he could sense the other being taken aback.

“Was that…” Vortex almost trailed off, “too unsubtle?”

Blast Off shook his head. “No. I rather like ‘unsubtle’. It leaves no room for misunderstandings.” Another one of these amused huffs left his vents. “So, I’m going to be blunt, too, and tell you I want to take you up on your offer.”

Vortex couldn’t stop his grin from growing.

The shuttle’s face changed slightly, a sceptical edge on it. “Your very unsubtle expression doesn’t need more words.”

“Well,” Vortex said, his grin bright and showing his fangs, “then I’ll stay quiet.”

Blast Off puffed air from his vents in a dry laugh. “Too bad. Here I was hoping you’d tell me one of these stories about you I don’t know yet.”

“Maybe one day. Then we’ll have another reason to meet.” Vortex suggested.

Now there was an actual laugh and a glint on Blast Off’s visor. “As if there needs to be a reason for that.”

Vortex’ rotors flicked in surprise. He hadn’t heard that in a long time, and wow, didn’t it do some weird stuff to his insides?

Vortex couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed or flustered, but he glancing up at the shuttle; he definitely liked the sentiment.

To their next meeting, he toasted silently to himself as he drank from his cube.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading and following this fic.
> 
> At some point Blast Off will find out about what Vortex is, but it's another, longer story to tell.  
> This is a whole new AU, for which I'll write and post other oneshots or longer fics now and then. :)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this so far and will turn in when I post more. :)


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